


the celestial soul

by cataclysm_dialogue



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, angel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cataclysm_dialogue/pseuds/cataclysm_dialogue
Summary: I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. And you are?Anakin somehow knows how to respond instinctively.I am Anakin Skywalker.The new spark pulses.I know, dear one. Oh, I know.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 94





	the celestial soul

Time.

Endless.

Spark of being.

Intelligence.

No body. No eyes. No sensation. No Senses. No seeing. Just being.

The unfathomable depths of space curl around him like a cold blanket. He knows he exists. He knows not why. He knows not how. He knows not when he came to be or why he is. All he knows is that he is Anakin Skywalker. Maybe one day he’ll--day? What is a day, he wonders. That is a new idea, the practice of measuring time by amounts. He likes new ideas. Likes to play with them, let them dance across his diaphanous consciousness like...like what? He knows simile. He knows metaphor. These are concepts. They exist alongside him. But what is he making a comparison to? His existence is so one-dimensional, so lacking...wait, since when is he not satisfied? He’s always been satisfied before, but now...he needs something. He’s...lonely.

Maybe a second later, maybe an eon later, a spark appears. It is like him, but the quality of its brilliance is a little different. This new spark sidles up next to him in the vast emptiness of space and seems to be waiting for something. What is he waiting for? Somehow, Anakin knows it is a he, like him. Anakin wracks his simple being for an answer, desperate to interact with this new being. Then, suddenly, he hears something within himself. 

_ I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. And you are? _

Anakin somehow knows how to respond instinctively.

_ I am Anakin Skywalker. _

The new spark pulses.

_ I know, dear one. Oh, I know. _

\---

They dance around each other, these friends of light, these beings of intelligence. They are pure. They are good. They are all they need. And then, a flash.

\---

“Hello there.” The voice sounds so near...near? Yes, things can be far and near now. There is spatial relativity. Anakin, yes, his name is Anakin. I am still Anakin Skywalker, he thinks. He realizes his eyes are closed. Eyes? What are eyes? They’re organs made for viewing and processing visual information. How does he know that? How does he...he has a body. A real, physical body. He can feel it all around him. Solid. Firm. Limited. He no longer stretches through eons and compresses into a single pinprick. He now has a defined shape and size. His eyes are still closed. 

He opens them. 

He sees the most beautiful being he has ever seen. No, that’s not good enough. He’s only had eyes for a short time. He sees the most beautiful being he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing in his eons of life. Life? Is that what this is? He can decide later. All he knows is what he sees right now. Auburn hair almost glowing reddish gold in the sunlight. Pale skin dotted with freckles on the shoulders. Blue eyes like the sea after a storm. Wings growing from his shoulder blades, white as the pure driven snow. And a smile more charming than anything in existence. Sunlight? Storms? Freckles? These are all new concepts for Anakin Skywalker, yet he feels as though he’s known of them forever.

This godlike being is reaching his hand towards Anakin, smiling as he does so. Anakin looks him up and down, admiring his body. How gorgeous, Anakin thinks. How lucky, Anakin thinks, for him to be the only one gazing upon this creature of light and life. Then he speaks.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. Don’t you remember me, dear one?”

Anakin instantly is taken back to an age long past, an age before he had a body. And age when he encountered another intelligence, that of this Obi-Wan Kenobi. His new heart leaps in his chest, filled to the brim with joy.

“Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan! I’m Anakin Skywalker! Yes, I’m Anakin! I’m Anakin and you’re Obi-Wan! Hello Obi-Wan!”

And he jumps up, a little unsteady on his newly formed feet, but stable enough to stand up and stretch his own wings, giving them a nice, firm flap before returning his attention to Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan!” He cries out again, happy to be reunited with his...what’s the word? 

“My friend, I am so pleased to see you,” Obi-Wan says. So that’s the word...friend. Anakin rolls it over in his mind and decides he likes it.

“Obi-Wan, I am...pleased to see you too...friend,” Anakin answers, trying out the new word on his tongue and enjoying the feeling of it leaving his mouth. A mouth! What a wondrous thing to have! Obi-Wan is smiling with his, so Anakin mimics the expression. 

Somehow, Obi-Wan smiles even brighter.

\---

They spend hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millenia, maybe even eons reveling in this new place, in these new bodies. They watch their reflections in crystal clear lakes. They run side by side with packs of wolves, howling with them at the full moon. They jump off cliffs, spreading their glorious wings at the last possible second and riding the updrafts of air, laughing like little children. They do all these things, and they are happy.

But they never touch. 

Their bodies are constantly on display for one another: lithe, strong, healthy, perfect bodies that will never grow old. They are beautiful. To anyone they would be beautiful. But they do not understand. They do not even know _to_ touch.

Until one day.

Change.

\---

“Dear one, let’s go on a nice, peaceful flight over the river. We can watch the fish jump and see the cows come to drink.” Obi-Wan’s voice is kind, as it always is. But today, Anakin wants to try something new. He steels his resolve before firmly answering, “No. I want to jump off the cliffs over there. I don’t want to fly over the river. Let’s jump off cliffs instead.” This feeling is new. It’s twisting, hot, and powerful. Refusal. Stubbornness. This is new for Anakin Skywalker, who has known only peace. 

It is intoxicating.

He wants more.

He wants to disobey Obi-Wan. He wants to be contrary, to be  _ difficult _ . So he crosses his arms across his chest and says, “I won’t go with you. I’m going to jump off the cliffs.” And he turns on his heel, intending to walk away.

But.

But then.

A hand.

Grabbing his. 

And oh God what is  _ this  _ feeling? Obi-Wan has never touched--never touched him before. He’s feeling something new. 

Attraction.

Lust.

Desire.

These are new for Anakin Skywalker. 

Anakin looks at the place their bodies are joined...their hands. Obi-Wan’s hand over his, holding tight. He looks at Obi-Wan, whose face holds an expression Anakin has never seen before. 

Obi-Wan wants him. Wants to touch him.

Anakin doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he surges forward and closes the gap between his and Obi-Wan’s lips.

Absolute ecstasy.

Heat, but not harmful.

Need.

These are new to Anakin Skywalker.

His lips touching Obi-Wan’s...it feels like he should be doing something more. Luckily, Obi-Wan seems to think the same thing, and he sighs, opening his mouth slightly. 

It’s as if Anakin knows exactly what to do. He pokes his tongue gently inside Obi-Wan’s mouth.

Warmth. Comforting warmth. Like the sun pouring in through his mouth and imbuing him with extra light. Anakin was once a luminous being of pure intelligence and brilliance. Now, even hindered by his physical body, Anakin feels that way again as his tongue slides against Obi-Wan’s. He feels like more than just the angel that he is. He feels like a fledgling god, about to spread his wings and rule over his kingdom. He feels so powerful, so vibrant, so alive, and he needs to do something about it.

So he reaches across the small divide between him and touches Obi-Wan’s chest. He runs his hand over it, feeling the smooth skin and soft hair. His hand brushes over a nipple, and Obi-Wan’s breath hitches, so Anakin does it again. 

Anakin feels like he’s wasted all this time, not knowing he could be touching Obi-Wan this way. He needs to remedy that, so he breaks the kiss with Obi-Wan and says, “I want you to be close to me. I want you to touch me. I want...I want you to be a part of me. Can you be inside me?”

Obi-Wan smiles at him fondly. “I can, dear one. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I have been around for at least a little bit longer than you. I can show you how we’ll come together. But first, you must learn patience. Let me show you how these bodies of ours work.”

Obi-Wan takes Anakin by the hand once again, and Anakin feels luminous. Everything is faster paced. The hues of the perfect spring day surrounding them seem infinitely brighter. Sometimes he’s wondered what it would have been like to stay an intelligence, a spark, forever, but now he feels sacrilegious for even thinking such a thing. To sacrifice being infinite seems like a small price to pay for Obi-Wan’s physical love. 

Obi-Wan leads Anakin to a grassy clearing underneath a cherry tree laden with blossoms. Anakin’s wings are lightly fluttering, like a butterfly’s wings when it alights on a flower. Anakin feels subject to a greater thing, as if he is going to partake in something beyond his scope of understanding. And as Obi-Wan says, “Lie down, my little angel,” Anakin knows he’ll lock this memory away in this thing he has called a brain and cherish it more dearly than anything else. Until his head caves in, until the world is reborn in fire and ice, Anakin will hold this series of images and sensations in his mind, locking them away for nobody to touch but him.

Anakin lies down, careful not to put too much pressure on his wings. This all feels very transitional, like Anakin is in flux and he will never be the same after this encounter. He embraces the feeling, smiling up at Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan leans down over him and plants a chaste kiss on his mouth, smiling against his lips. Obi-Wan reaches down, brushing the pads of his fingers against Anakin’s nipple, then taking it between his fingers and pinching it. 

“Ahh! Obi-Wan, ohh,” Anakin gasps out, already amazed at how good this feels. His mind is rearranging itself, recalibrating into something new, something fuller than what he was before. How could he have spent all this time without experiencing this? He’s existed for ages and has never thought to do this with Obi-Wan. It seems an egregious crime. One that he will seek to remedy immediately. 

He reaches out to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, and Obi-Wan unfurls his wings, enfolding them in a feathery embrace. He leans in so his perfect lips are right next to Anakin’s ear and whispers, “Little angel of mine, I want to watch you learn your new body. Will you touch yourself for me?” Somehow Anakin thinks he knows exactly what he means, exactly what he wants.

“Yes,” Anakin breathes out, high on the feeling of pleasing Obi-Wan with his actions. Obi-Wan leans back a little bit to give Anakin some space, and Anakin immediately reaches down between his legs, feeling instinctively that it's what Obi-Wan means. But Obi-Wan grabs his wrist, effectively stopping him, and says, “No, my dearest one, I want you to really feel yourself. Feel how beautiful you are. Start with your pretty face, and we’ll go from there.”

Anakin feels renewed, like he’s only a day old. But he knows what love is. It’s this. This right here, he and Obi-Wan under the cherry tree that silently drops pink blossoms onto their shoulders and into their hair. Obi-Wan plucks one such blossom from where it lands on Anakin’s nose, and Anakin feels a blush rise to his cheeks, his wings trembling slightly. He loves Obi-Wan. Somehow, he’s always known it and yet has discovered it for the first time in this moment. 

Obi-Wan looks to him expectantly, and Anakin feels his face get even hotter. But he wants this. Obi-Wan makes him wonder what he was doing all those ages before he and Obi-Wan’s sparks of existence came into each other’s orbit. All those wasted seconds of time that he could have, should have, would have spent with Obi-Wan, even before they had bodies. He allows himself a moment to mourn for all that time lost, and then shyly reaches a hand up to his face, brushing his own thumb across his soft bottom lip, running his fingers over his cheekbones, then brushing a piece of his golden hair out of his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks to him, saying, “I dreamt lesser beings came into existence. They painted pictures and carved sculptures of us, and gave us glowing halos above our heads. But you, dear one, oh, you need no added halo. Your hair is a golden crown more lustrous than anything these beings could even imagine gazing upon. Now go on, show me how you touch the rest of yourself.” 

Anakin is beside himself. He’s always known he was beautiful. It’s simply part of his nature. But Obi-Wan sees him in a way he could never fathom seeing himself. Obi-Wan doesn’t see Anakin as an angel. He sees him as a godling. It’s almost perverse in its obvious disregard for their station in this existence, and to the part of him that believes in submitting to their Creator's order of things, it’s a kick in the teeth. But to the purest part of Anakin, the true essence of his being, Obi-Wan’s view of him is like ambrosia to a withered soul. He wants it. He wants Obi-Wan’s praise. He craves it. He  _ needs  _ it. And he knows how to get it.

Anakin smiles at Obi-Wan, starry eyed, and starts stroking his hand lower. He watches Obi-Wan’s pupils dilate as his hand comes to rest around his throat, gently caressing the elegant curve of his neck. He moves lower, running the tips of his fingers across his collarbones, and he hears Obi-Wan inhale sharply as he reaches out to touch Anakin but then retracts his hand, clearly wanting to touch but opting to observe instead for the time being. Anakin can barely take it. He wants Obi-Wan to break his body in. He wants him to slip inside him like one would slip into a cool waterfront. He wants Obi-Wan to pull him down into him like a riptide current. And Anakin wants to  _ drown _ . He’s only touching his collarbones but he already feels himself hardening between his legs. This is a new feeling. He likes this new feeling. He can’t quite understand what’s happening, and he feels liquid start to gather at the corners of his eyes. He takes his other hand and touches his eye. Wetness. He looks to Obi-Wan.

“Oh, my angel, I always knew you’d learn to cry in time. But these are happy tears, dear one. Let them happen.” And finally, finally, Obi-Wan touches him again. A kiss to the forehead. Anakin sobs in relief. 

“Am I doing it right, Obi-Wan?” he asks, terrified of the answer.

“My sweet Anakin, I have never seen anything done so well as what you’re doing right now. Please, if you’re comfortable, show me more.”

Anakin very acutely feels how high up on his body his hand is. He gently caresses his arm, running his fingers over his biceps and triceps, marveling at the way his muscles move under his skin. He clasps and unclasps his hands together, amazed at how his fingers lace together so perfectly. He’s always been  _ aware  _ of his physical body, but this is new. This worship of himself under Obi-Wan’s appreciative gaze is awakening something in himself. The need for praise. And Obi-Wan is feeding that need. And Anakin wants it to continue forever. 

Anakin looks to Obi-Wan, nervously. He knows what he wants to do, but he’s unsure. 

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin like he’d move mountains for him, and part the seas just to see him smile. “It’s okay, sweet Anakin. Do what feels right.”

Right.

Anakin has never felt more right in his existence. 

He reaches a hand up to his right nipple, gently brushing the tip of his finger against it. He shivers at the feeling. He looks to Obi-Wan, who simply gazes at him like he’s the only thing in the world and says, “Very good, Anakin. Oh, you’re so good.”

Anakin can feel himself leaking precome onto the grass below. He looks down, curious about this new development. Obi-Wan follows his gaze, and chuckles, saying, “Why don’t you taste yourself, dear one?”

Anakin is very interested in this prospect. He reaches a hand down and brushes his fingers against the tip of his cock, and where flesh meets flesh, he feels unmistakeable pleasure. He looks at Obi-Wan, who is now looking at Anakin as if he wants to eat him alive without harming a hair on his head. Anakin sticks a finger in his mouth, and moans, enjoying this new taste. There has to be a way to get more of it...maybe…

And he looks to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is hard too, and leaking just like Anakin. Maybe, just maybe…

Anakin leans forward, and asks, “Obi-Wan, could I put you in my mouth? I want to taste you.”

Obi-Wan strokes Anakin’s hair and then looks at him like he’s the key to eternal happiness. “Of course you can, little angel. Just don’t force yourself to do anything you can’t handle.”

Anakin nods, then leans in a little closer. He feels Obi-Wan caress the base of his wings, and he moans softly.

He looks into Obi-Wan’s eyes. He feels like he’s being watched by a raging fire that is also somehow in complete control of itself. 

Anakin takes Obi-Wan’s cock in his hand, fascinated by its weight and girth.

Obi-Wan’s lips curve into a smile. “Don’t be afraid, dear one. Just go at your own pace.”

Anakin nods again, and carefully places the head of Obi-Wan’s cock in his mouth. It’s a feeling of fullness like nothing he’s felt before. He likes it. But what he likes even more is the noise Obi-Wan makes: a soft, airy exhale. A gasp, Anakin thinks. He wants to make Obi-Wan gasp more. So he does what he feels is natural. He takes more of Obi-Wan into his mouth, not stopping until Obi-Wan’s cock is touching the back of his throat. He swallows around him, and Obi-Wan groans, saying, “Yes, my little angel, just like that. You look positively radiant sucking my cock, like a cluster of stars in the farthest reaches of space, your light reaches the most desolate of places and evokes wonder. And oh, how I wonder at your abilities now, my sweet Anakin.”

The praise makes Anakin light up inside, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked down at his skin to find he was actually glowing. He wants to get even closer to Obi-Wan. He wants Obi-Wan to know everything about him, everything he was, is, and will be. He wants Obi-Wan to make his body into a shrine, and build an altar for their love upon which Anakin will place his beating heart. He wants Obi-Wan to be inside his very  _ soul _ . He feels he could jump off one of the cliffs in the distance and forget what feet are, forget what wings are, even, for with Obi-Wan’s devotion holding him up, he’ll never need to walk again.

“Ohh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he brings a hand down to grip Anakin’s golden curls, gently tugging Anakin’s hair, adjusting Anakin’s position on his cock. “Is this okay, my dear?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“Mmm,” Anakin replies, slowly sliding his mouth up and down Obi-Wan’s cock, not wanting to take it out of his mouth, enjoying the weight of it in his mouth.

“Now, now, Anakin. I need words,” Obi-Wan says, using his hold on Anakin’s hair to guide his mouth off his cock. Anakin whines, but he doesn’t protest further, saying, “Yes, Obi-Wan, yes! Now let me suck your cock,” petulance heavy in his voice.

Obi-Wan laughs, a full, joyous sound. Anakin wants to bottle it up and keep it contained in a bottle forever, his to listen to whenever he pleases. But finding ways to save Obi-Wan’s laugh is a course of action that can wait. Right now he wants Obi-Wan’s cock back in his mouth.

But he also wants to savor this movement, so he takes his time. He trails wet kisses up the side of it, and laps at the tip with little kitten licks before kissing the head. He makes eye contact with Obi-Wan as he finally takes it down his throat again, and Obi-Wan’s hand in his hair tightens. As Anakin takes Obi-Wan’s cock down as far as he can go, Obi-Wan reaches his other hand and feels Anakin’s cheek, touching his own cock from the outside of Anakin’s mouth, stroking his face tenderly, and then moving his hand down to Anakin’s throat, feeling it tense and then relax as Anakin swallows around his cock.

Anakin figures out that Obi-Wan likes it when he goes faster, so he starts bobbing his head up and down on his cock, flattening his tongue as he licks the underside, hollowing his cheeks out to get that perfect suction, poking the slit ever so gently with his tongue. All the while, Obi-Wan is letting out soft groans and Anakin is delighted. Pleasuring Obi-Wan is exquisite. Anakin feels like this is what he’s been waiting his entire existence to do. This is marvelous, it’s unfathomably wonderful, it’s--

“Dear one, ohh, dear one, please stop,” Obi-Wan says, using Anakin’s hair once again to direct him, moving him off his cock. “I’m truly sorry, my dear Anakin, but I don’t want to come down your throat. I want to come deep inside you while I fuck into you. Can I do that, dear one?”

Anakin feels as though his heart has been set ablaze. And he welcomes the fire. He will indulge in it. Will luxuriate in it as long as Obi-Wan will have him. 

Anakin says, “Yes, yes Obi-Wan! You can do that. What do I need to do?” And Obi-Wan smiles and says, “Oh, my dearest one, I just need you to lie back and relax; I’m going to get you ready for my cock. Will you do that for me?”

Anakin nods, and lies back, shoulders against the trunk of the cherry tree. 

Peace.

Obi-Wan’s voice is in his ear now, saying, “Close your eyes, Anakin. Let this happen. Let everything wash over you like the starlight from which you were born.”

Darkness.

Not empty, though. Obi-Wan is here. And if Obi-Wan is here, everything is okay. More than okay. Everything is brilliant. Fantastic. Excellent. Absolutely beyond perfect, if such a state exists.

Anakin feels something at his entrance, something slick and warm. It must be one of Obi-Wan’s fingers, he decides. It feels a little bizarre, but Obi-Wan would never do something like this without a purpose, so Anakin resists squirming away from it and takes a deep breath, letting the clean air enter and leave his lungs.

“Little angel, are you okay?” he hears Obi-Wan ask. He opens his eyes as he feels a hand come to rest on his cheek. It’s Obi-Wan’s hand. Everything is okay.

“Yes, I’m fine, Obi-Wan. I’m just...getting used to it.” 

“Well then, my darling angel, do you think you could try and get used to  _ this _ ?” And Obi-Wan adds another finger and begins scissoring them apart within Anakin. At first, Anakin still feels strange, but then something changes. He starts to  _ enjoy  _ the stretch. And then, Obi-Wan curls his fingers in a way that has Anakin’s head thunking against the cherry tree trunk and his hands ripping out clumps of grass.

“What--what was  _ that _ ?” Anakin asks, chest heaving, only needing Obi-Wan to do it again.

“Oh dearest, you’re learning very quickly that these bodies of ours are wonderful vehicles for pleasure. And I want you _drowning_ in pleasure.” He curls his fingers again, making Anakin arch his back and cry out “Ohh!” He used to think of his body as a limitation. A cage, in some ways. But now it is a channel. An instrument. Not something that inhibits. Something that  _ enhances _ . As he feels Obi-Wan’s fingers working inside him, he feels as though he has to tether himself to the ground or else he’ll start to levitate away from the sheer joy of being known in this way.

He feels Obi-Wan add another finger, and he embraces the feeling of the stretch. And behind his closed eyelids, he sees a glimpse into another life. He sees himself. He sees Obi-Wan. He sees others. A woman he does not recognize, but whom he knows he loved in that life. A Fall.  _ His _ Fall. Pain. Suffering. Death--

“Obi-Wan!”

“What is it, little angel? What did you see?" Obi-Wan’s voice is kind; of course it is.

“I-I don’t know exactly...I saw myself, but I wasn’t me...I was weaker, hurt, and oh so angry. You were there with me. You were my friend...I betrayed you…” and tears threaten to fall from Anakin’s eyes. He’s ruined it, ruined the moment, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, Obi-Wan is godlike and Anakin is nothing. A lesser being, like the ones Obi-Wan mentioned, he--

“Anakin, come back to me.” Obi-Wan’s voice is loving, but stern, with no room for argument.

Anakin comes back. He comes back to the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hand on his cheek, the feeling of his fingers inside him. They can talk about this later, Anakin thinks.

_ Can we? _

It is the first time in eons that Obi-Wan has spoken in Anakin’s mind. He must be worried. Anakin nods, placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm, and says simply “Yes.” This is an issue for a later time.

Obi-Wan leans in and kisses Anakin’s nose before removing his fingers and wiping them on the clean grass. He places both hands on Anakin’s face and looks him in the eyes, saying, “I don’t know exactly what you saw. I do know we’ll discuss it later. I also know that I want to make love to you right here, right now, more than anything in the universe. Can I do that, sweetest of all angels?”

Jubilation.

Trepidation.

Mixed together in a brilliant cocktail, Anakin is at once nervous and excited as he whispers, “Yes,” for only Obi-Wan to hear.

Obi-Wan smiles, a bright, joyful thing, and throws his arms around Anakin, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you, Anakin, I promise I’ll make it so good for you, my darling angel. You’ll cry out your pleasure into the afternoon air and I will worship at the altar that is your body.”

With that, he wiggles his fingers, a slick substance appears, and he coats his cock in it, groaning lightly. He positions himself over Anakin, once again unfurling his wings so the feathery appendages embrace him and Anakin. A feather tickles Anakin’s face and he giggles, brushing it off and kissing his own hand before bringing it to Obi-Wan’s lips in a distant version of a real kiss, and Obi-Wan grabs his wrist, leaving light kisses on the inside of it as he pushes inside him slowly.

Anakin’s soul is electric. Pure, unadulterated love and lust flows through his veins, more potent than any substance that those lesser human beings might ever invent. Anakin has seen it all. Hot, hazy summer days, flocks of birds rising into the clear blue sky, supernovas in space and he’s even touched this world’s sun, but nothing,  _ nothing _ can prepare him for the sensation, the experience of Obi-Wan joining with him in such a physical way. 

“Ohhh, Obi-Wan, I  _ love  _ you,” he breathes out, placing his arms on Obi-Wan’s shoulders and feeling the solid muscle there.

“And I love you, most radiant of all beings, Anakin Skywalker. I have waited through ages of this world to have you in this way, and now that I do, I never want to stop.”

Anakin feels like he’s going to burst at the seams, but at the same time he feels calm and centered.

Tranquil.

Violent.

Violent pleasure and tranquil adoration run neck-and-neck through Anakin’s mind and body. Neither one fighting for dominance; each one accepting its place as an equal with the other. Anakin feels balanced for the first time in his life.

Obi-Wan is fucking into him slow and deep, looking deep into his eyes as if he could decipher the world’s secrets just through eye contact. He runs a hand through Anakin’s hair and says, “Your body plays so prettily with mine, dear one. I truly believe our Creator made us for each other. We are more intimate than lovers, two halves of a single being, more than any label that lesser beings might want to attach to us. We are Obi-Wan and Anakin, and we love each other. No matter what?”

“No matter what,” Anakin sighs out. “Forever, Obi-Wan.”

“Forever, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan angles himself slightly differently and Anakin sees stars dancing before his eyes. His time as a luminous being of intelligence couldn’t have prepared him for this, and he gasps out, “Ohh, Obi-Wan, do that again!”

“Does my little angel like when I do that? Very well, I’ll do it again,” and he thrusts into Anakin,  _ hard _ . 

Anakin’s back arches and he cries out, and then he’s feeling very hot all over, and his cock is spurting out something warm.

He’s panting, hanging onto Obi-Wan’s shoulders and looking into his eyes, feeling more satisfied than he’s ever felt, but also confused. What just happened?

“That, my dear little angel, was an orgasm. It’s perfectly natural, and I’m rather hoping I can get you to have another one before we’re through.” Obi-Wan sounds confident and understanding, and Anakin offers up a shy smile.

“You mean, that was good? And you want me to do it again?” Anakin perks up at the possibility that he’s just done something very good, something that Obi-Wan is happy about. He adjusts slightly, feeling like the cock inside him is all at once too much and not enough sensation.

“Can I move again, sweetheart?” Obi-Wan inquires gently.

“Yes, oh yes please move.”

Obi-Wan starts thrusting again, starting out slow and increasing his pace until he has Anakin’s back lightly tapping the trunk of the cherry tree from the impacts. He holds Anakin in his strong arms, and Anakin thinks he’s never going to want to do anything else ever again. The stimulation is so good, almost painful in its intensity, and Anakin  _ loves  _ it. He wants to keep Obi-Wan locked inside him for eternity.

Now, Obi-Wan groans out, “Oh, you’re so gorgeous Anakin. And your mind is so beautiful. I wish I could see what goes on in there.”

Anakin grins. There’s something he knows how to do.

“You can,” he says.

Obi-Wan looks confused, but Anakin’s always been better than him at certain things. 

“Come here,” Anakin says, beckoning with a finger.

Obi-Wan leans closer and Anakin puts his hands on either side of Obi-Wan’s face, concentrating very hard.

_ Light. Space. Empty. Lonely. _

_ Obi-Wan Kenobi. _

_ Waking. Body. New world. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Friend. _

Anakin shoves image after image at Obi-Wan’s head. Images of all their time together, of the way Anakin sees him, proud and beautiful, of the desire Anakin feels, intertwined with a deep love and affection that has always been there, since before they touched, since before they awoke, since the very dawn of their existence. These are things Anakin Skywalker knows.

Through it all, Obi-Wan keeps fucking into him, speeding up as he learns of the unfathomable depths of Anakin Skywalker’s affection, spurred on by the strength of Anakin’s feeling.

Anakin keeps sending image after image until he arrives at the current time, and then he pushes extra hard into Obi-Wan’s mind, intent on informing him just how pleasurable this experience is for him, sending his own sensations across the mental bridge he’s built into Obi-Wan’s mind.

And then, like twin star births, they’re both coming, Anakin on his chest and stomach and Obi-Wan deep inside Anakin. Anakin removes his hands from Obi-Wan’s face and throws them around his neck, feeling boneless, a bit like a jellyfish, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Obi-Wan...I’m in love!”

\---

Even though they are angels, beings most fair and seemly, they need to clean themselves afterwards, so they go to their favorite, sky blue lake to bathe. Anakin dives under the water and surfaces, shaking out his hair and fluffing his wings. Obi-Wan, having already cleaned himself, sits under a tree on the shore and watches Anakin with a fond smile on his face.

“Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan! Don’t be so boring; come and swim with me!” Anakin makes wide beckoning motions with both his arms, laughing.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, laughing, and then takes a running start towards the lake before jumping high in the air, folding his wings against his back, and diving into the water next to Anakin. Anakin is delighted, and when Obi-Wan surfaces, he captures him in a hug, water droplets flying from his hair, laughter ringing out in the valley clearer and brighter than the finest bell any lesser human being may ever make.

“Obi-Wan, you’ll love me forever, right?”

“Forever, my dearest Anakin, and even after that.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed this little newly born angel au :) 
> 
> Will perhaps write a sequel, but no promises.
> 
> The interesting thing about these angels is that they learn certain things slowly, while they've been dormantly aware of other concepts since before they even had physical bodies, so I enjoyed playing around with what things each of them knew.


End file.
